


In The Company of Heroes

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, original fic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:39:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy from a dark world escapes and meets the Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exit

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vague crossover with a world I'm developing that is rather dark. I was thinking about it and I realized that the kids from that 'verse would really get along with Natasha, and then this story was born. The working title for this was Puddle Jumper, for reasons.

He ran as hard as he could, ducking down different streets and back alleyways at random.  No matter which way he turned, he could hear _them_ behind him.  There was a little satisfaction in the fact that they were as running hard as he was.  Unlike when they had first shown up outside the little café he had entered to buy a sandwich, back then he could practically hear their smug arrogance, their confidence that they would catch him in their footsteps.

He refused to look over his shoulder as he ran; he had seen far too many people caught because they slowed to look behind them.

He turned down an almost pitch-black alleyway, hoping he could hide and escape that way.

“You’ll never escape us, boy,” someone shouted.  “Keep running though, we wouldn’t want it to be easy would we?”

Their laughter was as ugly and as cruel as their hearts.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, and something happened.

The world flipped upside down for an endless moment and then he was running in broad daylight.  He crashed into someone who tried to grab him.  “No!”  The word flew out of his lips before he could really stop it.  He threw himself backwards, and hit someone else, “No, I won’t go back!”  He shouted twisting to strike at the person who now held him.

He fought as hard as he could, but the person blocked every hit and managed to subdue him.  “I won’t do it!”  He gasped.  “I won’t kill.  I _won’t.”_

“Then you won’t have to,” a firm, female voice said.

He stilled and took a moment to really look at his captor.  She was slender, but strong, with incredible red hair and dark eyes.  “I don’t?”  He asked.

“You don’t have to kill anyone,” she said firmly.

Relief hit him like a punch to the gut and he burst into tears.


	2. Assurance

“I don’t have to kill anyone?”

“No.”

If it had been anyone else, Natasha was positive she would have already killed them for being an annoying little shit.  However, this was a boy who had thrown himself through a portal to get away from that future.  This was a boy with a heart shaped face with some of his baby fat still visible, with jaggedly trimmed brown hair, and brown eyes that were the perfect shade of brown to add to his overall look of a kicked puppy.

“I don’t have to rape anyone?”  The boy asked as one of SHIELD’s medics bandaged his forearm.

“I should hope not,” the medic said.

Natasha glared at the man as the boy shrank back, afraid.  “No,” Natasha said after the medic had swallowed and turned back to his work.  “In fact, it would be best if you consider that a rule.  Rape is _never_ allowed.”

“O-ok,” the boy said, nodding vigorously.

Natasha watched the medic leave the small exam room enviously.  The boy was too uncomfortable for her to leave him, given the way he had latched onto her from the beginning.  “Do you have a name?”  Natasha asked.

The boy shook his head, “They took it away,” he said, almost whispering, “When they killed my mom.  They said I wasn’t allowed to have a name until I was one of theirs.”

Natasha shuddered a little, “You’re one of ours now,” she told him, “We’ll give you a good name.”

The boy’s smile was stiff, as if he had not smiled in a very long time, and it was gone before she could fully register it.  “I’ve done things,” he said quietly, “things Mom said were bad.  They said they would kill me if I didn’t do them, and I didn’t want to die.”

“It’s ok,” Natasha said, hoping to keep the boy from crying again.  He had made himself sick from crying the last time.  “You don’t have to tell me.”

“But you’re good,” the boy protested.  “I’ve done bad things, I’ve- I’ve hurt people.”  He stared at the floor for a long moment, “I killed people,” he whispered.

Natasha wished that the portal the boy had run through had not closed behind him.  _She_ wanted to kill some people.  This innocent looking boy could not be more than thirteen; he deserved to have a clean ledger.  Although the thought that _she_ was good did make her want to laugh at the boy.  “Hey,” she said, and waited for him to look up, “I’ve killed people too.  I have done it for the right reasons and the wrong ones.  We cannot raise the dead any more than we can turn back time.  All we can do is pay it forward, do the right thing now.”

“But,” the boy hesitated, “I have _powers.”_

“What kind of powers?”  Natasha asked.

“It’s why they picked me, they said I could do things, but I don’t know what they mean.  They picked me, and they killed my mom so that I did not have anyone to go to besides them.  I’m not special,” the boy stared at her, wide eyed.  “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Natasha frowned for a moment, and then went to the door.  Sure enough, the other Avengers were in the main part of the medical bay, including Bruce.  “I want you to talk to someone,” she told the boy.  “I think he might have some insights that would surprise you.”

“Ok,” the boy said quietly.

Natasha opened the door, “I’ll be right outside, and I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Ok,” the boy said.

Everyone looked up when she stepped out, “Doctor Banner,” Natasha said, “may I speak with you?”

“Of course,” Bruce said, standing up.

Once he was standing before her, Natasha took a deep breath, “I need a favor,” she said quietly.  “Whoever hurt that boy, they said he had powers, and I think they expected him to use them to hurt people.  He is terrified of what he can do.  Will you talk to him about the Hulk?”

Bruce hesitated, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Ok,” he said.  “I think I can help him.”

Natasha smiled, “Thank you.”

The boy was still sitting on the bed when they came back in, “This is Doctor Bruce Banner,” Natasha told him, “he’s a friend of mine, and a scientist.  I think he might know something about what you’re going through.”

“Are you going somewhere?”  The boy asked.

Natasha hesitated, “I need to use the lady’s room,” she said finally, and tried to give the boy a warm smile.  “You can trust Doctor Banner.  He’s a good man.”

“Ok,” the boy said.

Natasha stepped back out the door and pushed the door closed.

“How is the little puddle jumper?”

“Stark,” Natasha said, wondering how much sleep the irritating genius was running on, “That was less coherent than usual.”

“I told you, that portal looked like a vertical portal,” Stark said, “and how is he?”

“Fine,” Natasha said, eyeing the man’s oil stained jeans and tattered and faded shirt.  “Terrified we’re going to force him to do horrible things to people.”

“Better not let Fury meet him,” Stark said.

Natasha stared at Stark until he shrunk back in his chair, “I’ll take that under advisement, if you’ll excuse me.”


	3. Welcome

He liked Doctor Banner, the man was quiet and serious, and he did not flinch.  This was tested by asking if he would ever have to flay a man.  The doctor just looked very sad when he said he had been taught how to do it.  He also liked how Doctor Banner told him about his alter ego, the Hulk, and how he had worked to make Hulk a blessing and not a curse.

He felt better when Natasha came back though.  He knew where he stood with her, because she was not just honest, she was somewhat blunt.  She was trailed by a blond man with a stocky build and large arms who looked almost as impassive as Natasha could.  He wore a quiver with the same ease which Natasha wore her guns and knives.  “This is Clint,” Natasha said, “I’m sorry, but we’ve been ordered to hear your statement by our boss.  They want to help you, especially given what you’ve said, but, they need to know.”

He squirmed a little, and then nodded, “Ok.  I can tell you about the Heroes.”

Clint snorted, “From what little Natasha told me, those weren’t heroes.”

“They are now,” he replied bitterly, watching as Doctor Banner left the room.  Once the door shut, he turned to the other two.  “There is a very old quote my mother whispered to me and I’ve never forgotten.  ‘ _You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.’_   It is safe to say that the Heroes have lived too _damn fucking long._   There are rumors, there have always been rumors, that they were good once, that they protected the planets and kept the peace.  Things change, of course they still protect the planets from the marauders and all that, and the crime rates are pretty low.  Things are not good, however.  Peace has been bought and paid for in blood, in pretty teens becoming sexual playthings for the Heroes.”

“How did it start?”  Clint asked.

“This isn’t official, it might not even be true,” he said, “but the way I heard it, the heroes used to work for free, and they never accepted material gratitude.  They might work for a government or organization to pay the bills, but not as _heroes_ but as, like, journalists, or business people.  They took care of themselves by honest work.  Then someone took money, what I heard was that he had debts and he needed the money.   The other version said he took the money for his sick kid.  No one knows why it happened, but it opened the floodgates.  Now, Heroes will not disturb themselves for the little jobs, unless you pay them.  They expect pretty people to be in their bed on command, to do whatever they want, and those pretty people never leave the bed the same.  They are as quick to kill as they are to save, and they delight in causing pain and suffering, especially when there’s a big purse attached.  They keep an eye out for kids who will be Heroes and take them young.  I was four when they killed my mom.  My dad and my siblings, they tried to run after they took me, and they are dead too.”

“Nobody fights them?”  Natasha asked.

He laughed bitterly, “They’re the _heroes._   If you have Hero powers, you either join them or they kill you.  I knew they were coming to kill me because I was not fitting in right, so I bolted.  Computers really like me, so it was easy to get out.  They have been after me for six months, and I am not so sure someone didn’t give me away today.”  He shifted slightly and pulled the cotton top up so they could see the whip scars.  “I haven’t fit in with the heroes every.  No matter what they tried.  I did things for them, I have killed two men who should not have died, and I have hurt people, because I did not want to die, but I never enjoyed it.  I never did it without being threatened first.  That doesn’t excuse what I did, but I never hurt anyone without the shadow of death on me.”

“You were four years old,” Natasha said, “how did you survive?”

“Computers,” he said simply.  “I backed up my real memories on every computer I could find, and I checked my memories.  They could not shut down my powers, and they could not isolate me from computers.  I have a long reach.  They tried a few times to change my memories, but I always caught them the next time I got online.  They killed my family to make me one of theirs and I never forgot and I never forgave, and I will never be a hero.”

The questions that followed were interesting, he thought.  They circled around what he had done and what was done to him, but both of them backed off when he was uncomfortable.  He was fairly stunned when someone knocked on the door and he realized he had been talking for nearly three hours.

The door opened to reveal a man who was on the short side of average with short black hair and dressed in a suit that was clearly very expensive, “There’s a pretty nurse out here who wants to fall in love with me, but she’s got to deliver PJ’s dinner first, are you done?”

“Tony,” Natasha said with a soft sigh, “Who’s PJ?”

“The kid has to be called something,” the man, Tony, replied, “Steve didn’t like Puddle Jumper, but he thinks PJ should be all right.”

Natasha glanced at him for a moment, “I like it,” he decided instantly.  “I like PJ.”

“All right,” Natasha said.  “I’ll get it on your records then, you should eat.  And don’t mind Tony, he talks more than he does anything to anyone.”  She turned and stared at Tony, who ducked his head after a moment.

“Can I have my palm back?”  PJ asked quietly.

“You’re what?”  Clint asked.

“My palm, my computer,” PJ said, “I don’t know where it is, but, it’s got everything on it.”

Clint looked at Natasha, “It might take me a bit, but I’ll get it for you,” he said, and met PJ’s eyes for a long moment.  “Nothing will happen to it.”

“Thank you,” PJ replied.

“Welcome to Earth, Peej,” Clint said, and slapped PJ’s leg, “You’ll like it here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, I imagine that PJ gets fostered with a family somewhere quiet, and after a rough year adjusting to what happened to him in the Dark Heroes 'verse, he settles well enough. He becomes a computer programmer and he avoids violence as best he can. At school, with the bullies, well, PJ kept in contact with Natasha because she understands some about he grew up, she remembers the Red Room well. It's hard to bully the kid who is best friends with the Black Widow.
> 
> The Dark Heroes 'verse will have more stories forthcoming that are *not* fanfiction, but that's another story. As with all my original work, it will be available through either smashwords or Amazon under Jo Grix.


End file.
